


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by MirandasMadeOfStone



Series: Healing Ink AU [5]
Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Bubble Bath, Christmas, Cold Weather, F/M, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:30:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandasMadeOfStone/pseuds/MirandasMadeOfStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, I have failed miserably at finishing anything so I have decided not to launch into a decent sized fic. Instead I’m trying to write some snippets for you set in the Healing Ink MMFD AU.</p><p>My wonderful beta hasn’t seen this yet, as she’s working on 'Halloween'. So apologies my dear @how-ardently because I know there will be errors in here even though I’ve read it through!</p>
    </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I have failed miserably at finishing anything so I have decided not to launch into a decent sized fic. Instead I’m trying to write some snippets for you set in the Healing Ink MMFD AU.
> 
> My wonderful beta hasn’t seen this yet, as she’s working on 'Halloween'. So apologies my dear @how-ardently because I know there will be errors in here even though I’ve read it through!

The cold bites into her ankles; the thin nylon of her black tights is wholly inadequate for the wintry weather. Her head itches under the scratchy wool of her hat but her arms are too heavily laden with bags to relieve it. 

“Oh fuck.” Rae exclaims loudly in annoyance as her foot lands heavily in an icy puddle, drawing attention from a couple pushing a buggy on the far side of the road. “Stupid pissing shoes.” She mutters under her breath. 

She’d tried getting away with boots at work, but had only succeeded in getting Jim in trouble with Hotel management. Apparently bar staff had to look smart and “lady like”, and Doc Martens paired with the uniform knee length black skirt, gave customers the wrong impression.

  
Her lady-fucking-like black pumps were now soaked and her feet freezing. Just her luck, after the day from hell: her lunchtime shift full of rowdy office parties was followed by a couple of hours of shopping in the crowds, only to be topped off by working the evening shift filled with even more drunk and demanding punters. 

As she turns the corner with the bench on it, her sour mood begins to lift. A smile grows on her lips, as with every time she passes it, the memories of its role in her relationship with Finn, flood in. That bench also signifies that she’s barely minutes away from the moment she has looked forward to all day. 

She recalls how his side of the bed was already cold when her alarm had gone off at 8am. Her day started by trudging down the stairs, resigned to another difficult morning applying for teaching posts. Her initial enthusiasm had already waned after a series of rejections based on her thin veneer of an explanation for her lengthy absence from the profession. 

Yet, a smile lights up her face as she remembers how she found the first note this morning – taped to the milk bottle.

_Wish I was here to make your tea x_

The second note comprised a small hand-drawn heart taped to her favourite mug.

The third, attached to the inside of the cupboard door, was written in bold black marker pen on a neon background:  
 _Don’t forget breakfast!_

The fourth was stuck to the box of porridge oats.   
_Stick at it Mae, the right thing will come along. Love ya F x_

  
As she nears the cul-de-sac that is home, the smile grows even broader on her face. It had taken her until this afternoon to find the fifth note he’d slipped inside the notebook she always carried with her.

I _want you know, I’d so much rather be spending the day listening to tunes with you. So here’s a promise. When you get back tonight, we can do top threes – your choice. You can even wear your PJs and that bloody dressing gown. xxx_

  
A small giggle escapes her lips as she remembers the look on his face when she’d insisted that the striped dressing gown was the one she had wanted. It reminded her of one she’d had as a teenager and so she hadn’t been able to resist. Finn may not have rolled his eyes but she’s sure that the intention had been there. However, she’d played the game so well that they’d found themselves in the men’s department looking at checked pyjamas before his grumpiness had finally won out and they’d left the shop with just the dressing gown.  
***  
Rae fumbles impatiently in her coat pocket for her keys with gloved hands. Cursing quietly, she gives in and puts her bags down. In the moment of stillness that follows, she can’t help but notice the unusual quiet: for there is no music emanating from the house. 

Opening the door carefully, she scans the room to find Finn at the table, chewing the end of a biro and staring down intently at some paper in front of him. She frowns at the way he continually tenses and flexes the fingers of his right hand.

“Finn.” 

He near startles, dropping the pen from between his teeth, then grins at her. “Mae.”

“What you doing?” Curiosity has already got the better of her; so much for playing it cool.

“I’m err, doing some sums.” He grimaces. 

She wanders over to sit on the chair to his left, pulling off her hat and scarf as she goes. Finn looks a little uneasy, verging on worried but she remains silent, confident that his words will come.

He looks down at the paper, brow furrowed and opens his mouth before closing it again. His internal battle is relayed in a series of small tics: the tap of his boot against the floor, a rub to the back of his head and a dry cough.

“Things are a bit difficult at the moment. Mike and I are doing our best to cover Chop but we’re not pulling in as much. You know that we agreed to pay Chop a basic wage so he could stay home with Izzy and baby Jacob for a couple more weeks.” He picks up the pen, stares at the paper and starts to chew the inside of his cheek. Eventually he has to swallow. “It’s just that what with the cost of college and commuting, we’re a bit broke right now.”

“Oh Finn. It’s really my fault. I mean if I hadn’t been studying, I would have been able to do more shifts. If I could just get a bloody job….”

“No, Mae.” He sounds forceful. “You mustn’t rush into something. The right one will come along.”

“But if I was less picky about location and…”

“It’s my responsibility. I’ll sort it.” His head drops and he sighs. “And we see so little of each other as it is.”

Carefully, she stretches her hand over the table and places it over his. “We’ll get there, together. I can work more shifts now my course is over. Chop’ll be back at work in the New Year. And I promise we won’t see any less of each other. We might just have to be even more careful with scheduling.”

Finn groans with a smile on his face, before it falls.  
“There is one thing though.” His voice was quiet, tentative. “I…uhh…I know it’s our first Christmas together and I really want it to be special. But…” He pauses to flip their hands so hers is now inside his before looking at her earnestly between his thick lashes. “Would you mind if we didn’t…if we just gave each other small presents?”

Her head snaps back slightly in surprise, a slither of hurt creeps in, wondering why he would even feel that he had to ask. She’s still digesting this when she notices the heaviness of his brow, the intensity in his eyes and she contemplates what, as yet unknown part of his history has led to this.

“You’re a right dickhead.” She smiles as he furrows his brow. But it’s not enough. So she hops to her feet and plops herself down on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You know Finley. All I want for Christmas is you.”

His nose rumples up. “Did you….” He raises his eyebrows. “Did you just quote Mariah Carey?” He shakes his head and a chuckle escapes his lips.

“So what if I did?” Her tone is defiant yet relaxed.

He throws an arm around her waist and presses his lips against her neck. “I love you Mae.” Nuzzling against her soft skin, he drops his pen and pulls her closer. “But your music cred has just taken a nosedive - dickhead.”

“Says the man who was singing Fairytale of New York in the shower yesterday.”  
“Oh. You heard.” 

She starts to giggle but it evolves into a snort. “And you couldn’t even get the words right.”

She adores the mardy look of disbelief on his face and predicts that he’s about to argue about the lyrics, so she butts in. “And for the record, I mean it about presents. We can just do token gifts because the best bit is that we get to spend four whole days together.”

His eyes crease up in a smile. “I can’t fucking wait.” 

“What we will we do with ourselves?” She grins rolling her eyes dramatically.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He responds gruffly into her neck and runs a hand down her leg.  
“Shit girl, you’re wet through.” His roughened hand catches on her tights as he rubs her leg. “You’ll catch a chill.”

“It’s fine. Just stepped in a puddle that’s all.”

“Humm. I think ya’d better have a hot bath.”

“Is that what the doctor is prescribing” She quirks an eyebrow cheekily.

“That and a hot toddy my dear.” He kisses the top of her head and she cuddles him.

With more than a little reluctance, she gets to her feet, extending out a hand. “Join me”

He sinks his teeth pensively into his bottom lip.  
“I’ll be up in a minute Mae. I’ll fix you that drink and I….I need to have a piece of toast or something. Won’t take 5 minutes.” He claws his tattooing hand and flexes it again, failing to disguise a slight wince.

“When did you get in?”

“About an hour before you.” He shrugs, while she does the maths. “Lots of and lots of clients today.”

She places a kiss on his cheek. “Five minutes then.” Her eyes are alight.

***

A mountain of bubbles covers her body as she rests her head against the back of the bath and stretches right down into her toes. Just as she considers things couldn’t be any better, the sound of Mazzy Star wafts in from the music room next door, shortly followed by Finn appearing with a steaming mug in his hand.

“Hey.” He pauses, taking her in.   
Squatting down by the side of the bath, he strokes her hair with his free hand. “Bath feel good?”

“Humm.” 

“Here. The brandy in this’ll warm you right through.”

Taking a sip, she pulls a face as the fiery liquid burns a trail into her stomach “Jesus.” She pushes the mug towards him. 

“It’s not that bad.” He takes a drink and can’t help but cough, causing her to laugh. “Maybe I made it a bit strong.” He splutters, setting the cup down on the floor as he settles on his knees to compose himself.

“Come in with me.” She ruffles his hair depositing a raft of bubbles.

“You’re alright girl.”

Not content with his answer, she cups her hands and throws some water at him.  
His eyes widen and his jaw drops. But soon he’s pulling his t-shirt over his head and pushing his jeans past his hips. “You’re a right minx.”

There’s nothing graceful about the way he gets into the water to sit between her legs, his body curled forward. “Fuck me, ‘s hot in here.” 

“That’s the point of a hot bath you numpty.” She leans forward and kisses his shoulder blade.

When he finally relaxes back against her, she runs a hand slowly down his right arm to take his right hand in hers. The ball of her thumb kneads his palm.  
“It’s sore isn’t it?”

He grunts in assent.

She brings her other hand round to massage his aching hand properly. “You’re always bangin’ on about how I need to look after myself. Well you need to take care of yourself too. Your hands…they’re really important.”

His sigh is a little testy.

“I mean it Finn Nelson. This hand… this hand its where all your work flows from. Your ink, your art, and all those beautiful patterns you put on my body.” She picks it up and lifts it to her mouth to reverently place a kiss on it.   
“You mustn’t kill yourself working because of money. We’ll get by. And as for Christmas, I meant it. I don’t need anything from you. I just want us to spend time together.”

His silence doesn’t last long. “You sure, you’re sure?”

“Course I am. But it would be nice if we could have a turkey.”

“I’m sure we can manage turkey with all the trimmings and those profiteroles you love so much. Maybe a bottle of fizz…huh?”

“That’d be nice. Do you think we could have a tree?”

“Yeah. Christmas wouldn’t be a Christmas without a tree.”

“And lights.”

“And lights.” He smiles softly. “And perhaps a bit of tinsel.”

“A lot of tinsel.”

“Alright, a lot of tinsel.” A warm laugh escapes his lips, as he throws an arm backwards to run his fingers down her cheek.

  
She continues caressing his right hand until he closes his eyes and emits a deep contented sigh. The mellow waves of music wash over them as they lay in comfortable silence, bodies entwined, breathing deep and even.  
The stress and tension that he carried through his day, has dissolved into the scented bubbles that have now diminished to soft fluffy peaks. Running his fingers through them, he revels in their unexpected texture, a lazy grin on his face.

Rae’s the first to yawn, but he’s quick to follow. His is louder and resembles more of a groan than her quiet effort.

“So uh…” She yawns again. “Top three Christmas tunes.”

He’s so warm and relaxed such that he can’t even be bothered to argue with her theme. He’s not going to be defeated for music is their thing, nonetheless, today’s not the today for being too clever.

Without giving it much thought, he reels off his first selections. “Number three: The Pogues – Fairytale of New York. Number two: Ella Fitzgerald’s Winter Wonderland – me nan’s favourite. Now number one…..Humm.” 

He’s grateful he has his back to her because he cannot prevent the impish grin on his lips. “Mariah’s All I want for Christmas is you.” He fails miserably to hold back the loud peals of laughter that near immediately leave his lips.

“You’re incorrigible.” Sher runs her nails up and down his very sensitive sides.  
He emits a high pitched noise, causing her to squeal in delight as he squirms.

“Mariah bloody Carey.” She tickles him again until he can’t take it anymore and turns to face her. 

He’s the one to start the water fight. Loud laughter fills the small room as the floor becomes covered in water and the remnants of foam.


End file.
